


Veni, Vidi, Vici

by seventeensteps



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, M/M, Manipulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, The Magnus Archives Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventeensteps/pseuds/seventeensteps
Summary: Elias senses the trepidation inside Jon even before the man says his name.It’s rather lovely, really, seeing Jon and the state he’s in right now. Knowing just enough to be afraid of everything that can and will happen, but not enough to actually do anything about it.“Elias?” Jon calls his name again. Elias gets lost in other people’s thoughts and feelings sometimes, and Jon’s have always given him so much relish.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 122





	Veni, Vidi, Vici

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings

Elias senses the trepidation inside Jon even before the man says his name.

It’s rather lovely, really, seeing Jon and the state he’s in right now. Knowing just enough to be afraid of everything that can and will happen, but not enough to actually do anything about it.

“Elias?” Jon calls his name again. Elias gets lost in other people’s thoughts and feelings sometimes, and Jon’s have always given him so much relish.

Jon is thinking that since he’s here—having come down here himself, instead of calling him up to his own office—something must be terribly wrong and requires an immediate intervention.

“Don’t worry, Jon,” Elias says, smiling, looking right at him. The flash from Jon’s mind tells him it elicits the intended effect. Jon frowns, shoulders taut. Elias smiles even wider. “Read your statement. Don’t mind me.”

Jon exhales, slowly relaxing, but the doubt is still there. “Why are you here?”

“Just to observe the progress of my dear Archivist,” Elias says, amused at the little tingly sensation at the base of his neck, and takes a seat on the uncomfortable faux leather chair across from him. They’re separated by the office’s big wooden desk and stacks of recorded statements and several notes lying haphazardly all over them. Still, they’re too close for Jon’s comfort. Elias inhales and leans back, closing his eyes. “Go on.”

Jon hesitates for a moment, but then he clears his throat, already making up his mind, and begins to read the statement in front of him.

“Statement of Anya Villette, regarding a cleaning job on Hill Top Road. Original statement given…”

He lets the tentative trickle of fear slowly slide into him, savouring, swallowing.

* * *

Elias’s begun to visit Jon’s office more often. He can always taste it when Jon’s reading a statement—a sliver of dread drizzling in in the back of his mind—but he soon finds out that if he’s there to directly enjoy it, it’ll leave him more filling, almost as much as drinking directly from the source itself.

He’s also learnt that, no matter how much the man tries to deny it to himself, Jon likes the power it gives him. Reading— _seeing_ , rather—someone else’s fear like this, it fuels his very being as the Archivist. Along with the pain of the person who gave the statement, Elias can also sense the heady excitement bubbling up inside Jon as the statement comes to its end. This is an especially _detailed_ statement, and it leaves his mind deliciously free of any static, full of anguish and grief and _fear_ so pure it makes Elias hard.

Jon takes a moment to compose himself, breathing hard and ragged. His grip on the tape recorder is tight, knuckles white, and Elias sees something on his mind. Standing up, he’s always prided himself on his ability to seize an opportunity and make the best of it.

He rounds the desk, walking right up into Jon’s space, and turns Jon towards him. His eyes are big and dark and glassy, like he’s somewhere far away. That is quite all right, Elias hums. He combs his fingers through his Archivist’s messy dark hair, and Jon flinches a little, coming back to here and now. He gasps when Elias pulls at his hair, tilting his head back. Feeling panic rising inside him, Elias bends down and takes his mouth.

Jon’s lips are chapped and tight against his, not opening up easily even with the leftover thrill of the statement still coursing through his veins, so Elias bites him. Jon lets out a noise, and Elias pushes himself in.

Panic fades to static, and pleasure begins to build. Jon’s lips are slack now, and Elias moves to suck a mark onto the patch of skin just beneath his jaw before straightening up. It’s amusing how his eyes widen when he sees the evidence of the state Elias’s in. The static is loud now, so Elias puts a knee on the chair and inches even closer, hands undoing the buckle of his belt. On the outside, Jon is still and quiet, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. Elias pets his hair, not minding the way Jon starts and pulls back a little, as far as the chair lets him.

He guides himself to Jon’s mouth, but all Jon does is just stare at it, even when he pushes the head at his lips, slicking them with precum. “Jon?” he prompts, chuckling.

Jon begins to open up, static and something else _familiar_ competing in his mind, and Elias lets him take his time. There’s no need to rush. He sighs as the heat of his Archivist’s mouth envelopes him. Jon won’t ever run away after all.

* * *

A week later and he’s sitting there across from Jon in his office again. As delicious as the last time was, Elias knows how to be patient. He’s careful not to take too much at once.

Elias closes his eyes, preparing to hear the Archivist’s voice. A minute passes. Jon wants to say— _ask_ something, he can feel it, like a magnetic pull from under his skin, thoughts swirling just below the surface. He decides not to look. He knows it’s enough to listen, and he knows Jon won’t tell him to leave anyway.

After taking a deep breath, Jon begins to read today’s statement, and Elias lets himself drift.

It’s a little disappointing, the statement. Not much fear, or distress. But still, it produces some nice effects. Jon’s breathing comes slightly faster than normal, his head clearer. He’s more sober than last time.

It still gets Elias hard all the same.

“That was rather bland,” Elias says. Jon goes visibly tense. “Now, now. There’s no need for that. I can still make you feel good. You know that.”

Jon doesn’t move. Elias grins.

Jon still doesn’t know how to kiss properly, but Elias doesn’t mind a passive partner. He makes Jon stand up and pushes him down onto the desk, face-first, before sitting down on the now unoccupied seat, humming. The desk is too small, but it’ll have to do.

He unbuttons Jon’s pants, his pulse jackrabbiting in Elias’s head, and pulls the garments down. Elias pats the man’s exposed part gently. A shiver runs down Jon’s spine.

“Don’t worry,” Elias coos a little. “It’ll feel even better than last time.”

He begins the preparation slowly, sensing what makes the static fade and when something is too much. Once he feels Jon can take it, he adds the second finger, languidly opening him up, making sure he’ll be ready for something bigger. Jon’s legs are trembling. After Elias brushes against a particularly good spot, he yelps, and accidentally shoves the pencil holder off the surface. Elias chuckles, pleased, and takes his time. He has no intention to hurt his precious Archivist after all.

After a while, Jon is a shaking mess on the desk. He’s still quiet, with occasional whimpers here and there, but Elias can practically taste building orgasm in Jon’s mind. He carefully pulls his fingers out.

A flash of confusion.

And then Elias is slowly pushing in, inch by inch. Jon goes rigid under him, static rising again. He stills, stroking Jon’s sides. Jon is tight, so tight, and Elias sends that feeling towards Jon.

Jon startles, pleasure blooming between them, intense and electric. He gets even tighter, then gradually relaxing and tightening up again. Elias has to steel himself for a moment before resuming his movement, their combined bliss so overwhelming that he almost loses his control. He pushes his fingers into Jon’s hair, gripping it—it’s long and soft and beautiful. Elias bunches it up in one hand, moving it to the side, and leans down to mouth at his neck. He learns it’s Jon’s weakness.

Once Elias bottoms out, he waits, letting Jon adjust, hot and slicked and _perfect._ The man squirms a little, restless and chasing something he doesn’t quite understand. He strokes Jon’s hips in a soothing circular motion, before beginning to move in earnest.

With every sensation now doubled and echoing between them, it’s difficult to pin down the point where Elias ends and Jon begins. He wants to drag it out as long as he can, but it’s a fairly impossible feat to manage.

And then comes the knock on the door.

Jon’s head snaps up, and he’s already trying to push Elias away, a sudden spike of alarm blossoming inside him—Elias feels himself get even harder.

Jon is afraid of being _seen_ , and the fear of his Archivist tastes so sweet on his tongue. Jon begins to struggle, and Elias presses a hand between his shoulder blades, keeping him there. He doesn’t stop moving.

The door knob rattles. “Jon?” It’s Martin.

It’s intoxicating, the sheer terror and the exploding pleasure inside Jon.

They come, together, complete and powerful and indistinguishable. 

The door is quiet now. Elias sees the assistant quickly walking back to his desk, eyes wide and red, his mind boiling over the possibilities.

Elias dismisses him, and turns his attention back to the Archivist, spent and sated and _scared._ Such a lovely combination.

He stays like that for a while, lying on top of Jon, basking in the afterglow, drinking every last bit Jon has to offer.

Jon doesn’t stir as he pulls out and cleans up after both of them. They made a right mess to the desk, and even to some of the statements. Elias winces slightly. They’ll do this in his office next time.

Oh. There’s going to be a next time.

With the right clues and signs, it’s not hard to learn what he has to do to get what he wants.

And Elias always knows where to look.


End file.
